There Is No Spoon
by My Old Fics
Summary: A collection of short stories based on The Matrix.
1. The First Strange Occurence in His Life

Somewhere, in a plain and ordinary apartment, a pale young man slumbered peacefully. He was slumped face-down in his soft fluffy bed, his right arm dangling at his side.  
  
Beep. Beep. Beep.  
  
The young man, known to the world as Thomas A. Anderson, rolled off his bed and landed with a muffled thud on the hard, concrete floor. He leapt up, startled, and quickly grabbed his digital alarm clock. He stared at the clock face in horror. Half past seven. And he was to go to work at seven o' clock, sharp, as his boss explicitly stated.  
  
"Oh, shit."  
  
Panicking, he stripped down to his waist and, throwing open his wardrobe door, he pulled on his work shirt. And then, he realised that he forgot something. Something important...  
  
"Ugh..." Tom groaned and plopped down on his bed. Slowly, he changed back into the casual t-shirt that he wore at home. He had remembered what he had forgotten earlier. It was a Sunday. He didn't have work on Sundays.  
  
He was just about to fall asleep again when his desktop computer emitted a deafening noise. His head immediately jerked up, and he groaned again. Apparently, he had cranked the volume all the way up when he was listening to his favourite rock album the night before, and he had forgotten to turn it down.  
  
He decided that it was too late to try and sleep anyway, so he slid over to his computer in his swivel chair.  
  
"That's odd..." he muttered. He peered closer into the screen and rubbed his eyes. When he looked at it again, it remained unchanged. He wasn't dreaming.  
  
On the screen, he could see that his computer was site-hopping. His fingers rapidly flew over his coarse keyboard (worn due to constant use) and he tried every command he could think off, but to no avail. His computer must have gone haywire or something.  
  
Then the screen went black. Green letters started appearing.  
  
"Hello, Neo."  
  
Thomas A. Anderson gaped at his computer. 'Neo' was a secret nickname of his that only his friends know of. He continued to stare blankly at the computer for some time. And then:  
  
"Oh, shit."


	2. Deathbed Thoughts of a Hero

Bang!  
  
Thomas A. Anderson grasped his stomach quickly. A fair amount of blood had oozed out, even though the shot was just fired. He looked down at the gunshot wound. His hands, he noted, were entirely bloody now, the cloth surrounding the wound area completely covered with blood. He staggered back and knocked into the wall. He simply couldn't believe that he would be killed like this.  
  
Bang!  
  
He felt mad at himself for being so helpless. Unable to even save himself. Now, there were two wounds in his abdomen. Blood squirted out quicker than before. He breathed in deeply, and, not surprisingly, he found that action alone was gradually getting difficult. He broke out in cold sweat, both from the excruciating pain and the realisation and fear that he was about to die a very slow and painful death. He couldn't do anything about it, except to just endure it.  
  
Smith raised his Desert Eagle handgun again. "Good-bye, Mister Anderson," he stated in a monotonous voice, betraying only a slight hint of the pleasure Smith was experiencing.  
  
BANG!  
  
He staggered again, this time from the impact the bullet sent through his body. He wondered why this shot was so deafening. In fact, he wondered why everything he saw was starting to blur and swirl, and why he was able to hear even the slightest footsteps from the adjacent room. Perhaps this was what it was like to die. It was not so bad after all, he thought. At least, when he died, everyone would be somewhat happier, including himself. He wouldn't have so many things to worry about then.  
  
But what about Morpheus? Or Trinity? Or the rest of the Nebuchadnezzar crew, for that matter?  
  
It didn't matter now. He was a goner, and it wouldn't help to feel bad about everything. Slowly, ever so slowly, he was slipping into the darkness which was enveloping him. He couldn't hold on any longer. He gave in to the darkness.  
  
In the real world, his heart stopped.  
  
In the Matrix, he collapsed onto the floor, dead to the world.  
  
But in his mind, he was free at last. Completely, totally oblivious.  
  
It was bliss.


End file.
